


In which Steven gets shot and has emotions for his best friend

by WoozleBucket



Series: Sugar Pine 7 Drabbles [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF, Sugar Pine 7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 16:21:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11695386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoozleBucket/pseuds/WoozleBucket
Summary: Pretty much what the title says.





	In which Steven gets shot and has emotions for his best friend

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel to the first fic in this series. Go check that out, but it's not strictly necessary. 
> 
> In other news, I was up until midnight editing this. What the fuck is my life anymore

It’s been two months since Cib’s naked ass first showed up in Steven’s bed and, honestly, his life has been going better than it had been for years. With another person to do jobs with, he doesn’t need to go to as many parties. And since he’s not going to parties as much anymore, he has more time to spend with people like Reina and, yes, Cib. Joel Rubin has finally stopped bothering him and is working in television of all places, not that Steven knows or cares. And then there’s Cib himself.

Steven does not get confused very often. Scratch that, Steven never gets confused and understands everything. And he definitely understands that weird, almost warm feeling in his chest that only appears when Cib’s around, the (ugh) emotion that only rears its head when Cib smiles at him or when they’re having Bro Time at the pier. He just doesn’t have a name for it. Which is fine. He has a crew to get together, after all, and that is probably more important that any emotion ever has been and ever will be. 

Emotions like that one get in the way when out on jobs, so Steven likes to ignore them and focus on the needless violence happening around them.They’re on a job right now and Steven is doing a really good job of suppressing the growing weirdness as Cib pulls out his gun and points it at the cashier. That’s when Steven steps in and asks, very calmly, for all the money in the register.

“And a bottle of Mountain Dew,” Cib adds. Steven feels the weirdness turn into a brief flicker of irritation before it’s back to just plain weirdness.

“Uh, and a bottle of Mountain Dew,” Steven awkwardly requests. The cashier looks around wildly for the soda and looks pointedly at the customer closest to the case. The woman lunges for the Mountain Dew and practically shoves it onto the counter before shuffling backwards so she can comfort her two very loud, crying kids. Ew.

As the cashier empties out the register, Steven taps his foot impatiently. This is taking way too long. Cib seems to notice his impatience and waves his free hand in a ‘hurry the fuck up or I will shoot you’ motion. The cashier sees it and their eyes widen comically as they hurry up pulling the money out. Cib and Steven briefly take their eyes off of the cashier and the people huddling towards the back of the gas station and look at each other. Steven can see Cib’s smile underneath his bandana and, despite his strict ‘show no emotions’ rule, he smiles back. Cib stands up straighter and gives a thumbs up. And that, of course, is when shit goes south.

Steven hears the click of a gun and feels the bullet tear through his shoulder before he can do anything. He has a feeling that whoever had shot him had more than one bullet in their gun, so he hops over the counter and ducks down behind it, covering his shoulder with one hand and pulling the gun out of his waistband with the other. Cib joins him shortly, a gunshot following almost directly afterward along with a loud curse that sounds remarkably like the mom with the (ew) kids. As the cashier collapses to the ground with a gunshot wound to the throat, the customers scream almost in unison. Cib looks at the blood seeping between Steven’s fingers and pulls off his bandana, moving to tie it around his shoulder as a makeshift tourniquet. It doesn’t really do anything to stop the bleeding, but it somehow makes all the blood that is supposed to be flowing out of his body rise up to his face. Somehow. Cib’s making his worried face and Steven thinks that it’s possibly one of the saddest things that he’s ever seen.

“You have a really, uh, a really bad face right now,” Steven gets out, feeling lightheaded. “And that’s weird. ‘Cause you usually have a really good face.”

Cib weakly smiles. “Thanks, dude, I grew it myself.”

Steven, for whatever reason, reaches out and grabs Cib’s arm, looks him dead in the eyes, and says, “Don’t get shot with that bad face. It might get stuck that way, and I can’t deal with that.”

Cib’s face does something weird, like he’s trying not to laugh in the middle of what could potentially turn out to be a gunfight against a middle-aged woman.

“Come out here, you motherfuckers!” the annoying mom screams. One of her disgusting little kids repeats after her and the other one just screams even louder than before.

Cib grabs Steven’s good arm in return and shakes it reassuringly. It still hurts like a bitch, but Steven gets the gist of it and leans back against the counter, pressing his hand against the wound and grimacing at both the pain and the idiocy of what he had said. Seriously, what was that about? He watches as Cib and his very good face lets go of his arm and take in a deep breath before he jumps back over the counter and fires off a single shot into the small crowd.

Steven hears both extremely disgusting kids cry out as their mother falls to the ground, but he doesn’t really register it over the wound. He grunts as he stumbles to his feet, leaning against the counter for support as he grabs the grocery bag full of money in his free(ish) hand. Cib looks at him and then back at the dead mother. Then they head out to Cib’s shit car and start driving.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A couple of days later and after a lot of thought, Steven thinks that he might have figured out what that weirdness in his chest is, but that emotion is fucking stupid so he chooses not to call it anything except for weirdness. But despite himself, he keeps calling it that other name in his head. The robbery had gotten him thinking about things, and while he wasn’t entirely sure of those things, he can only hope for the best.

He and Cib are sitting on Steven’s couch watching the news. The Fakes are at it again over in Los Santos. This time they’re trying to drive monster trucks up the side of Maze Bank like the fucking idiots they are. Cib is vaping again despite Steven’s insistence that vaping is against his rental agreement. 

The reporter, some Jon guy, is finishing up his report when Cib remarks, “Yeah, I’d do him.”

Steven feels irritation (the only emotion he doesn’t suppress) at that and snaps, “Oh, sure, just because he has a really nice face that’s way better than mine and his hair is better than mine ever could be, oh, do fuck him. Please.”

He takes a deep breath in and out, thinking that he just did something really fucking stupid that went against his ‘show no emotions’ rule. The weirdness in his chest felt like it was trying to make him do anything stupider.

“Huh?” Cib asks, looking confused as all hell. Jon What’s-his-name drones on about damage control or something in the background.

“Nothing, dude,” Steven mutters. “It’s, uh, was nothing.”

They sit there for a moment, Steven digging around in the bag of chips between them.

Cib clears his throat. “I, uh, like your hair. Even without the hat.”

“Yours is way better, dude,” Steven huffs, crossing his arms and slumping into the couch. 

“And don’t knock your face, dude,” Cib adds, scooting slightly closer. “It’s a good face. Got two eyes and everything!”

Steven feels his face heat up and he stutters, “Your, uh, face, uh,” before giving up and burying his face in Cib’s shoulder. Honestly, fuck this newfound anxiety. This is his best friend, so why is it suddenly so hard to talk to him?

Cib gets what he’s getting at. “Aw, thanks dude! I stole it myself!”

Steven snorts and sits back up, looking at Cib through his newly-blurry glasses. “I thought you grew it. Like in a lab or something.”

Cib looks at him like he’s stupid. “Uh, yeah! I grew it in my old place and stole it when my old roommate kicked me out. Obviously!”

He then takes another puff of his vape. As he lets the smoke out, Steven reaches for it and takes a drag. He almost immediately starts coughing up smoke.

“Careful, dude, don’t nic out!”

“I’m fine,” Steven wheezes. Cib rolls his eyes and takes back the vape, almost immediately taking another drag. 

As Steven coughs uncontrollably and Cib vapes, they watch the Fakes ruin monster truck after monster truck in some sort of highlight video. And if Steven finds his head on Cib’s shoulder again at some point, so what?


End file.
